


Pompous and a Side of Pasta

by JazzRaft



Series: kitchen disasters [9]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Love/Hate, Multi, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 13:01:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20097637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/pseuds/JazzRaft
Summary: Nyx and Noct might both love Ravus, but sometimes, he makes it really hard not to want to poison his dinner.





	Pompous and a Side of Pasta

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glaivenoct](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glaivenoct/gifts).

> A [prompt fill](https://jazzraft.tumblr.com/post/186683161262/why-dont-you-leave-this-to-someone-who-knows) from a list of [kitchen disasters](https://jazzraft.tumblr.com/post/186452779569/kitchen-disasters) for [glaivenoct](https://glaivenoct.tumblr.com/)!

“Why don’t you leave this to someone who knows what they’re doing?”

“Do you know someone who does?”

Nyx clamped his teeth down on whatever retort he had in response to that back-handed comment. He had to be the bigger man here – he had to be the bigger man, anywhere, really. But no one man’s presence demanded he step his patience up to the plate more than Ravus Nox Fleuret.

“Yeah,” Nyx said. “My mother. Who taught _me_ everything I know.”

He stared Ravus down, daring him to challenge the sanctity of maternal legacy. He knew he wouldn’t. Of all the topics they agreed to disagree on – out loud, debate style, often to prove a point – this was not one of them. Ravus had to grit his teeth and let it go. He was an asshole, but he was a gentleman. He wouldn’t insult another man’s mother.

“Fine,” Ravus muttered. “I’ll defer to your expertise this _once_. Assuming you have any.”

“Good!” Noctis piped up before Nyx could rally a comeback. “You can come keep me company in the meantime, then.”

If anyone ever told Nyx that Noctis was not a good diplomat, he wished he could film moments just like this was to present as evidence. Because there was no greater test of his diplomatic patience than wrangling Ravus to release control. It was a Astralian task some times, and it made it hard to understand why Noct loved him so much – or why Nyx did for that matter, despite his better judgment.

Noctis managed to coax his princely counter-part to his comfy couch. It was a trap, Nyx knew, because once one sat on that couch it was hard to get up off it again. If not in part of how comfortable it was, then in part of how Noctis tended to use his relaxing victim as a part of the furniture himself. There was no escaping his clutches once he stretched out on the sofa and rested his head in Ravus’s lap. It was for the Commander’s own good, lest Nyx take the nearest meat skewer and poke it in his eyes.

“We’re royalty, Ravus,” Noctis pointed out. “We should be the ones served, not serving.”

The prince flitted a wink at Nyx as the glaive rolled his eyes, returning to the empty kitchen to resume his work. Speaking to Ravus’s ego was another sure-fire way to keep him clear of all the kitchen utensils Nyx could use as murder weapons.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m your humble servant, Your Highnesses,” Nyx said, feeding into the façade (he wore the pants in this relationship and they all knew it – though Ravus was still in denial).

“Nyx will make us something fit for two kings,” Noctis promised before Ravus could open his mouth to suggest otherwise. “Just relax.”

That was a tall order for the high-strung High Commander, but with Noct planted on his lap and Ravus too polite – though prickly about it – to make him move, he wasn’t going anywhere. Unfortunately, not moving from the couch didn’t mean he couldn’t move his lips.

“Let’s hope he doesn’t have double regicide in mind, then.”

“Only single regicide,” Nyx countered. “Extra hot peppers in your portion, got it.”

When Ravus rolled his eyes, Nyx could practically _hear_ it without looking at him. Ravus was a man who’s derision dripped off of him like an acid waterfall, barreling down on Nyx’s shoulders until they burned. But he’d survived far worse fires than the scorn of a spoiled, sanctimonious sovereign that thought he was a chef.

Granted, Nyx didn’t know the first thing about Tenebrae cuisine, which was the object of today’s endeavor, but he was sure he could do it better than a man who had never touched a daggerquil breast in his life. One day, if he ever developed the patience, Nyx would love to educate Ravus on the cathartic qualities of a cooking a meal for oneself. Bread-making, that would be good for Ravus. Lots of punching dough, Nyx thought he might enjoy that.

But not today. Today, he was not a saint prepared to sacrifice his own self-worth for the sake of suffering the countless barbs against his character in an effort to enlighten him. Nyx could sacrifice a lot for love, but not that much.

“Sure you don’t need help?” Noctis asked, though he made no move to get up from his sprawl.

“You just want to make sure I don’t add arsenic to his.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t put it past you.”

“It’s a valid concern,” Ravus growled.

Noctis reached up and batted at his mouth in a lazy effort to make him be quiet. Nyx didn’t need any more encouragement to sabotage their dinner. In the end, Nyx had enough self-restraint to keep all three plates poison-free, and managed to salvage whatever monstrosity Ravus had originally been attempting into something edible – although, it would have been hilarious if Ravus killed himself with his own cooking, with no help from Nyx.

“For my royal leiges,” he announced with all the gravitas of a subservient pion to the throne. “Grilled daggerquil breast with roasted sweet pepper pasta.”

Noctis sat up and dug into his portion eagerly. Ravus watched him from the corner of his eye, as if he were waiting for his face to turn purple and prove that it was in face poison in the pasta sauce. Nyx was about ready to pin him down and force it down his throat. Once Noctis purred with approval around his mouthful of linguine, Ravus chanced a taste of his own. He met Nyx’s gaze, eyes narrowed, and did not let it go until he finished chewing.

“Adequate,” he said, simply. “And I’m not dead.”

“You’re welcome.”

It was the best compliment Nyx was ever going to hear from him. He’d just have to take it. If not for his own sake, then for Noct’s, who was looking at him with the most earnest, hopeful, apologetic stare he could sneak past while Ravus was distracted. There was a lot that they didn’t agree on, but one thing they’d always agreed to set their differences aside for was Noct.

Somehow, he saw something in the both of them that he loved, when they couldn’t be more different. And if Noct could see it, they’d just have to trust that they would see it, too. They hadn’t killed each other yet. Sitting on the couch, with Noctis between them, pressing a shoulder to Nyx and knee to Ravus so they were all connected by one point of contact, they could both agree that his happiness was worth it.


End file.
